


strawberry sauce

by hubblestars



Category: The Worst Witch (TV 2017)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Cute, F/F, First Kiss, Fluff, Guilt, Ice Cream, Pining, Post-Season/Series 03, Short & Sweet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-21
Updated: 2019-02-21
Packaged: 2019-11-01 23:23:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,363
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17876729
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hubblestars/pseuds/hubblestars
Summary: Dimity can't stop thinking about the look on Julie's face when she announced that she was leaving.





	strawberry sauce

**Author's Note:**

> I had a bad day so I wrote this silly thing :) honestly I just wanted to explore Dimity and Julie's characters more because they're my precious wives and they're in love!

Dimity lies awake.

Her hair is spilled around her pillow in tight curls - her blanket is tucked up to her chin. But despite the warm bed and the tired haziness pulling at the corners of her eyes, her mouth is pressed into a thin frown, a strange expression on her face when compared to the usual brightness of her smile. Something is niggling in her brain - it won’t let her sleep.

She can’t stop thinking about the look on Julie Hubble’s face when she’d stumbled into the staff room and said  _ I have to leave  _ in a steady, calm voice _.  _ There weren’t tear tracks on her cheeks or a hint of weariness in her face, but Dimity had seen the sadness there anyway. It had been wrapped up in her warm smile. When Dimity had pulled her into a hug like the one on her first day at Cackles, Julie had sagged against her. She smelled like cookies and her embrace was a warm comfort, but Dimity had felt her shoulder grow wet with Julie’s tears and she had never felt so much guilt. Hard and bitter. It bit at the sides of her chest. And now it stops her from going to sleep.

It’s just… when Julie Hubble was in the art room, it was filled with a burst of colour. There had been paintings on the walls and there had been life in the classroom - Dimity had once stood by the door and watched Julie teach and she was brilliant. She’d tucked a curl of her blonde hair behind her ear while she complimented the girls’ efforts and made quiet but encouraging suggestions. Dimity had stood there watching for far longer than she should have with a stupid smile on her face. 

But Julie had been shunned by others, Dimity thinks, and winces. HB and Ethel, most obviously, but the subtle prejudice against her was underlying everything - when Julie went to dinner, when she taught, even when she walked down a corridor, there was always a hostile mutter here, a crass joke there. Dimity had thought, stupidly, that her companionship could be enough to soothe the pain; when she’d snuck Julie donuts, or when she’d give her a smile in the corridors, she had thought that she was doing all she could. It was when they were standing outside on the grounds and Julie had tears of laughter crinkling at the edges of her eyes that Dimity had thought  _ she’s okay as long as I’m here.  _ And when Julie had buried her face in Dimity’s shoulder to stop herself from laughing more, Dimity had grinned to herself and  _ known  _ that this, this was where Julie Hubble belonged.

It wasn’t enough. Not by any means.

Hadn’t Dimity always prided herself on protecting people? Hadn’t she sworn to defend others against the same things that had haunted her as a child? But then, hadn’t she stood at the edges of corridors and watch HB berate Julie over and over again, without stepping in? Hadn’t she stood back and said nothing when those misguided girls had taunted her? And hadn’t she watched the joyous, infectious spirit of Julie Hubble slip away as the castle got colder around her?

Dimity groans and buries her face in her pillow. That Hubble, with her crinkled eyes and her amused voice and her warm heart, deserved the entire world. And Dimity had ignored the sound of her heart breaking over and over until Julie was gone and her laughter had slipped away. There was something missing, now. The castle seemed grey. Like it’s soul had been ripped away.

*

“Do you know how that Miss Hubble’s doing?” Dimity asks Gwen, over their morning tea. Gwen had been falling asleep over her teacup, her eyes drifting shut every now and again, but now she jumps in her seat and spills tea all over her lap.

Dimity suddenly remembers a morning just like this one, several weeks ago. Julie had been hovering in the doorway, uncertain, as if she wasn’t welcome. And Dimity had pulled her in by her hands and been so enthusiastic in pouring her tea that she’d spilled it all over the table and Gwen had sniffed loudly in disapproval. Algernon had laughed at her until Dimity turned red and Julie had teased her about it for days afterwards.

“How in the Great Wizard’s name should I know?” Gwen swabs at her lap and then sighs and gives up. “She did turn me into a tiny figure, you know.”

Dimity can’t help it - she bursts out laughing, just at the image of Gwen and HB and Miss Cackle as little, helpless clay figures. She couldn’t blame Julie Hubble in the slightest, even if she wasn’t under the influence of corrupted magic; Dimity had, on multiple occasions, wanted to vanish a few people here herself - if it wasn’t for that damned Witch’s Code, she may have been tempted.

Then she thinks of the girls’ smiles when they’re rushing through the air on their broomsticks, and their giggles when they tried to land and fall first face onto the grass, and Dimity’s face softens.

“You know what? It’s Saturday. I’m going on a trip.” Dimity announces, jumping out of her seat.

“Where, exactly?”

“Ice cream!” Dimity yells, as she jogs out of the room.

*

Now that she’s flown all the way here, Dimity doesn’t feel as sure as herself as she had in the air. There’s a tinge of pink in her face from the cold, and the wind has made her hair come slightly loose. She takes a deep breath as she raises her hand to knock on the flat door. She’s never been here before, and she worries suddenly that some stranger is going to open the door and give her a frankly alarmed look at her broomstick and Cackles’ kit. Or phone the non magical police. Or attack her.

But then Julie opens the door in her dressing gown with her hair all over her face. She smiles slightly when she recognises Dimity. When she leans in the doorway and tucks a few curls behind her ears and out of her eyes so that she can see Dimity properly, words that Dimity had prepared on the flight over falter in her mouth and she just stares, instead, caught somewhere between awe and amusement.

“Oh, hello.” Julie says, raising one eyebrow. “I thought you were the plumber.”

“Sorry to disappoint.” Dimity grins weakly. “Haven’t seen you since…”

“Since I got kicked out of Cackles, you mean?” Julie’s smile widens, and when her eyes start to sparkle Dimity realises she’s not upset at all, and the relief fills her with a warmth similar to drinking witches brew. She laughs loudly, and remembers that this is  _ Julie Hubble,  _ and that she has never felt so at ease with another person before. Her nerves slip away like they were never there at all.

“Fancy some ice cream?” Dimity asks.

Julie looks at her for a moment, long enough that Dimity notices the small shadows under her eyes that betray the sunshine in her face. All of a sudden, Julie surges forward and hugs her. The warmth of her - the gentle feeling of her dressing gown, the tightness of her arms - makes Dimity feel at home. The world, so distorted since Julie had left, clicks back into place again.

“Thought you’d never ask.” Julie winks when she pulls away. “Let me get dressed first and then I’ll show you the best ice cream joint in town, hm?”

*

“What have you been up to, then?” Dimity asks, through a mouthful of sugar. Usually, she would be healthier than this, but the sprinkles and the chocolate are just too much to resist and it’s worth it to see the grin on Julie’s face. She feels like a child, sitting in a little booth eating ice cream in non magical clothes while Julie giggles in front of her. It was the perfect idea, Dimity thinks proudly, dipping her spoon in the tub again. Perfect to be here talking to Julie without the stress of Cackles on their backs. Perfect that their knees keep knocking beneath the table whenever they move.

“I started teachin’ art to the kids at the school near here. I haven’t turned any of them to clay yet, so I think it’s going well.” Julie smiles around her spoon. There’s a little strawberry sauce at the edge of her mouth and Dimity bites her lip and looks at the slope of Julie’s neck, instead, where blonde curls rest and fit along her skin. “Anyone died at Cackles yet?”

Dimity laughs again, and wonders how Julie brings out this loud, childish side in her. Cackles is too serious sometimes - she has to remain strict to bring the best out in the girls, but often she just wants to join them in their antics. Wants to prank HB and explore the forest until the mud has crawled up her socks and her knees. Julie likes to sneak muffins from Miss Tapioca and tell stupid jokes and Dimity can imagine her dancing to pop songs with Mildred so vividly that she feels a hard twist in her heart, a longing to join them. To fit somewhere, for once. To fall onto the sofa with her, giggling, her hands tucked into Julie’s curls because she wouldn’t want to have them anywhere else.

“Not on my watch.” Dimity’s laugh softens to a small smile. “You know… it’s not the same without you.”

“Hm?” Julie pauses over her spoon and looks up with wide eyes. She looks so surprised that Dimity’s stomach sinks in shame. “I was under the impression it was  _ good riddance to the Hubble  _ over there. I don’t mind, as long as Millie is happy.”

“Not to me.” Dimity blurts. “I know you had a tough run there, but I, I mean we, at Cackles, appreciated you. Magical or not, you were brilliant, Julie. I’ve never met a better teacher. Honestly.”

Julie looks a little pink, and she twirls a curl absently around her finger.

“Why, thank you, Miss Drill.”

But the strawberry sauce at the edge of Julie’s mouth is so annoying that Dimity just reaches forward and swipes it away with her thumb, as if they’ve been to ice cream parlours a million times before and mouth touching is just something they do on a regular basis. Now there’s strawberry sauce on the edge of her thumb and Julie’s mouth is a little open in surprise and Dimity feels the wild, inexplicable urge to lick the sauce of her thumb. Absolutely  _ not  _ appropriate, she thinks, wondering why Julie brings out this courage in her. The youth that had began to slip away from her and was replaced with hard responsibility has returned in a fit of warmth and laughter. All of the failed attempts at trying to want boys in the past, all of the times she’d looked away from women undressing in the changing rooms before a big race, all of the years she’d committed herself to Cackles to try and suppress any desire that wasn’t that of teaching, seem to disappear.

“Call me Dimity.” 

“Dimity, then.” Julie raises her spoon as if for a toast and pours more sauce on her ice cream. “Cheers.”

*

“I used to take Mildred here all of the time.” Julie says, when they’re standing outside of the ice cream parlour in the cold and Dimity doesn’t want to go home yet. Julie shivers a little in her coat and Dimity resists the urge to step closer. A protective thrill goes through her, an urge to keep Julie safe in her arms and never let her leave. “When she was little. Her feet wouldn’t touch the floor and she’d dribble ice cream all over the table. I miss her being my baby, you know? She’s all grown up now.”

“A fine witch she is.” Dimity agrees. “And an even finer person. Though we both know where she gets that from.”

“You think so?” Julie turns to her, and in the afternoon sunlight she seems to glow a little. There’s a curl of hair loose and falling in front of her eyes that she keeps brushing away. Dimity feels so lucky to be standing here, close enough to see the freckles dotted across Julie’s face. “I worry sometimes that I haven’t done enough. That she needed a Dad, you know? When I went to Cackles, I think it just showed me she doesn’t need me anymore.”

“Hey. You’re a great mother, and you…” Dimity stumbles over her words. “Mildred  _ never  _ stops talking about you. I mean, it’s  _ Mum  _ this,  _ Mum  _ that. You’ve done everything for her, just like you did for the girls at Cackles. You’re…”

“I’m the bats?” Julie says, giggling a little, and a rush of affection of her goes through Dimity.

“That’s the spirit!” Dimity laughs with her. “I used to give pep talks to my flying team. Apparently I’m rather good.”

Julie cocks her head and studies her for a moment. 

“I wanted to thank you.” She says, slowly. “And not just for buying me ice cream. You were my friend when no one else was. I noticed, Dimity. Thank you.”

“Me?” Dimity shakes her head. “I didn’t do  _ enough. _ You were fantastic, truly. It’s just the magical world… it isn’t always open to new ideas. I should have defended you more, really. I want to be a good example to my girls, and you deserved way better than you got. Even if you did turn a little mad near the end there.”

“Oh, stop it.” Julie ducks her head shyly, and it’s endearing enough that Dimity can’t help but brush the curl away from her face for her. “I think your pep talks work.”

There is a moment when Julie looks up at her and she’s more vulnerable than Dimity has ever seen her, and Dimity struck with how much she doesn’t know yet. Yes, Julie likes sweet food and art and she loves Mildred with all of her. But what about Mildred’s dad, about Julie’s past, about the things she does in her spare time and what she paints and how she looks before she goes to sleep? The amount of things she might never know pains Dimity. She almost reaches forward to kiss Julie’s forehead, to ease the worry lines with her mouth, but a familiar fear stops her still. The feeling that she’s pushing too far, feeling too much, the desire as thick and bitter as the guilt she’d felt the night before.

“I’d better be off.” Julie says quietly, looking out into the sunset. It’s turning pink like the strawberry sauce and Dimity’s imagination takes her somewhere far away, to the taste of Julie’s mouth and that ice cream, mingled together. “It’s getting late, and you have a long flight, I think.”

Dimity nods sharply, even though her heart screams at her to move, to wrap Julie in her arms, to savour it because she doesn’t know the next time she’ll get to see her. 

Julie steps forward and trips on the curb. Dimity catches her easily.

“Oopsie.” She says, and Dimity would chuckle if Julie wasn’t so close to her. She smells like paint and ice cream and flowers, and there are several seconds were Dimity thinks Julie is looking at her mouth. How easy it would be to reach forward and kiss her, soft on the edge of the road, where no one knows who they are and what they’ve been through. “My knight in shining armour.”

Then Julie stands on her two feet and gives Dimity a hug, her head tucked underneath Dimity’s chin. It feels like a goodbye, a sorry, a promise, and it lasts a little too long.

“See you.” Dimity says, when they’re back at Julie’s door. She fiddles with her broom and Julie looks amused.

“Bye, love.”

*

When Dimity lands on the grounds by the evening, Algernon is standing outside by the lake catching flies. She shoves her trembling hands into her pockets and goes to him. Her legs feel a little unsteady, and her mind is somewhere back at Julie’s flat, wanting to kiss her goodbye. But she stands next to him anyway, looking at her reflection in the shimmering lake and feeling the heaviness in her chest pull her shoes down into the mud.

“Back so soon?” Algernon’s eyes twinkle. “I was under the impression you were with that Hubble girl.”

“Oh, shut up.” Dimity says, running a hand across her face.

“You want to know what I think?” He asks. She feels an odd wave of comfort when he presses his hand on her shoulder. “I remember what it’s like, to be young and in love. You’ve got to grab it with two hands. I don’t know what you’re so afraid of, grasshopper, but you can’t let it beat you. You’re the star of the sky, for God’s sake. Just go for it.”

The weight of his hand on her shoulder, the sunset, the feeling of Julie’s hair tickling her chin. Dimity grins, suddenly, and squeezes Algernon’s hand.

“Yeah.” She says.

*

On second thought, transferring so suddenly to Julie’s flat wasn’t the best idea she’s ever had. Dimity stumbles on her feet and rests her head against the wall for a moment until the motion sickness fades. Outside, the sky has darkened, and Dimity watches the moon for a moment before she takes a deep breath and knocks on Julie Hubble’s door for the second time that day.

This time, Julie answers the door in ripped jeans, with a paintbrush held in the corner of her mouth and her hair in a loose bun. There’s a streak of blue paint across her cheek and she blinks when she sees Dimity standing there.

“Still not the plumber.” Julie mumbles around her paintbrush and then takes it out of her mouth. “Fancy an art lesson?”

Dimity, overwhelmed with the weight inside her chest, is frozen for a moment with her own longing. In her mind, she’d transferred here and pulled Julie into her arms in a scene similar to those non magical films. Now, she just stands with a mouth agape, and Julie raises her eyebrows.

“Something on my face?” She asks, with a twinkle in her eyes. 

It’s this, then, that breaks Dimity’s resolve. The streak of blue paint across her cheek. The strawberry sauce that was at the edge of her mouth. The paintbrush, held there between her lips. Dimity yanks Julie to her by the collar of her cream jumper and it’s soft beneath her fingers, curled in her hands. There’s a breath, and then…

Then Dimity kisses her hard by the door of the flat. Harder still when Julie pulls her closer. Where they’re coated in the shadows of the hall and lit by the moon. Where Dimity smiles against her mouth and Julie makes a little hum of pleasure that makes everything feel brave, wonderful, beautiful. It’s the feeling of Julie’s curls beneath her fingers when she pulls her hair free from the hairtie that makes Dimity’s heart stumble over herself. There’s traces of ice cream and strawberry on the inside of Julie’s mouth.  
  


“Someone’s gonna see us.” Julie breathes against Dimity’s mouth, although she doesn’t seem to mind at all. She’s grinning, her cheeks flushed and her hair swept around her face, and Dimity thinks with a soft glow in her chest that  _ she  _ did this, she made Julie Hubble come undone, made the lines on her forehead fade away.

“Then invite me inside.” Dimity says, bold. She traces her hand across Julie’s cheek, and there’s a perfect moment where Julie simply presses her cheek into Dimity’s palm and closes her eyes and they stay there, intertwined. Warm and sweet.

“You know, Miss Drill.” She says, her eyes bright and a little wet when she opens them again, and Dimity’s chest falls and rises with the enormity of all of this. The newness, the purity, the indescribable feeling she has when Julie turns her face into Dimity’s hand and kisses her palm. “I just might.”


End file.
